Reluctant Hero
by Fingersnaps
Summary: Being late for work is never a good way to start the week; Tim can only hope this Monday morning doesn't go even further downhill (First Person POV)


8

**Reluctant Hero**

There's a sound, right on the edge of my consciousness, I lie still, trying to work out what it is, then I get it, music...how did that happen? When I finally got to sleep early this morning it was quiet; now someone's singing, a song I hadn't heard before, then a guy is talking.

"That was _You've Got a Nerve_ by a new band, Grande Valise, when they hit the big time remember you them first right here." I try to figure out why the radio alarm is on so early; then my eyes open good and wide. "On KPCL, serving the nation's capital, it's 7.30 on a cloudy Monday morning; here's Kyra with the news headlines."

"Oh crap!" I switch off the radio and jump out of bed, I'm late, way late, Gibbs was going to...no time to stop and think what he was going to do; I had to get ready for work.

I skip breakfast, coffee too, make do with the quickest shower I ever had, couple it with the quickest shave, dress, gulp down a glass of orange juice and race out the door. The drive to work is smooth, but way too slow, if only everyone would get out of my way, doesn't happen, never likely to in a DC rush hour. I take it steady, last thing I need is to get in an accident, keep telling myself, concentrate on the road, deal with Gibbs when I get to work. I stop at a red light and toy with the idea of switching on my phone; it had been off ever since I got home last night, but then I figure why borrow more aggravation? I already know how much trouble I'm in; don't need to hear it ahead of time.

I arrive at the Navy Yard a little after 8.30 and join the short line of vehicles waiting for clearance at the gate, why is it this procedure runs like clockwork when you have all the time in the world, but when you're late; seems like every car takes forever to get through. Finally, it's my turn, I already have my ID ready, I wind down the window and show the guard my badge; he gives it a cursory glance.

"Morning Agent McGee, how are you doing today?"

"Running late Sergeant, the quicker you let me through, the less trouble I'll be in."

Sergeant Perez smiles. "Trouble? Not likely, not today. But you go ahead, have a good one."

He signals for the barrier to be raised and as I drive through he stands to attention and salutes; I check the rear-view mirror, maybe an officer just pulled up behind me? No one there, he couldn't be saluting me, that would be too hinky. I'm still shaking my head in bemusement when I park in the first available space, no time to go looking for a more convenient slot today.

With a quick glance at my watch I sprint across the lot, seems like someone has their finger on the fast forward button this morning, time is going way too fast. By the time I get to the security desk I'm out of breath, I reach into my pocket for my ID and promptly drop it on the floor; I notice my hands are shaking a little as I bend to pick it up, guess I'm not functioning like I should, not enough sleep, or maybe skipping breakfast wasn't such a good idea.

"Sorry about this Evan, I'll have it for you in one second."

"No problem Agent McGee, you're good, head right on up, I figure they'll all be waiting for you."

Gibbs must have been down here already checking to see if I'd been signed in, one look at his face would have been enough for Evan to know I was for it when I finally got here. "You're most likely right, okay, better get up there; face the music."

Evan picks up the phone as I head for the stairwell, doesn't look like I'm going to arrive unannounced. I take the stairs two at a time, try to come up with a reason for being late; telling the truth was always best, but seriously, 'I slept through the alarm' was right up there with 'the dog ate my homework' as the lamest excuses ever. Thing is, it's the truth, and that's what I'll tell Gibbs, what more can I do, other than offer to make up the time and promise it will never happen again?

I reach the doorway, after a moment to steady myself I take a deep breath; here goes nothing. I open the door and for a second I think I must be on the wrong floor; there are people all around, and they're clapping, cheering, then a voice calls out, "Way to go McGee!" This isn't what I expected, where is the Gibbs glare? He's smiling and applauding along with the others. I take a couple of steps into the room and feel a sharp blow on my arm.

"Ow! Abby, what was that for?"

"Because you could have been killed, what were you doing? You didn't have your gun or, or a Kevlar..." She throws her arms around me and I can feel the tremors as she starts to cry.

"Abby, what's wrong? I don't understand..."

She steps back and points at the plasma, everyone is watching, I can feel their eyes turn from me to the screen, and then I see it...

"Whoa McGee."

Someone holds my arm, keeps me upright. "Boss, I...what happened?"

"That's what we'd like to know Tim; okay everyone, give him room."

"I'm fine Boss, didn't have time for breakfast..."

"Or dinner yesterday Timothy?" I shake my head, and Ducky tuts as he leads me to my desk, truth is I'd been too wired to eat when I got home last night, and later the shivering started and I felt too sick to face food.

Gibbs pulls my chair away from the desk. "Sit Tim; Tony."

"Coffee and Nutter Butters, on it Boss."

I look up to see everyone staring at me, I can feel the heat flooding my face and I know I must be blushing.

"Gibbs, why don't you take Agent McGee and your people to the Conference Room? Looks like he could use a little privacy to process all this." He waves toward the screen. I still don't get it, with everything that was happening out there yesterday, how did so many people find time to take pictures?

The Director stands right beside me and he's smiling."You're a credit to this agency, take as long as you need McGee, I'll deal with the media until you're ready to make a statement."

"Me? I...what would I say? Boss, do I have to...?"

"Not right now, food first, and then you can decide. Dorneget, when Tony gets back you tell him where we are."

"S...sure thing Agent Gibbs."

Abby takes my hand and we walk to the Conference Room. Ziva opens the door and waits for me. "McGee, are you alright?"

"Just...I don't know, wasn't expecting this."

"It is right that what you did is recognised, you saved lives my friend, there are people who wish to thank you."

I shake my head. "You don't understand Ziva; I didn't do anything special..."

"Tell that to the people who've been singing your praises on TV Timothy, they seem to think what you did was very special indeed."

I slump into a chair and try to breathe deep, I'd driven into work today expecting Gibbs to tear me a new one and part of me couldn't help but wish that had happened, at least I'd have been able to get on with the day, do my job. Instead of the normality of a Gibbs glare, a head slap, some wisecrack from Tony, a sympathetic glance from Ziva, the normal, everyday things I'd hoped for, I'd been thrown this wild curve ball.

"Hey, McHero, food's here!"

"Please Tony, enough, how many times, I didn't do anything..."

Gibbs lays a hand on my shoulder. "Take it easy Tim, eat something before Ducky blows a fuse, then you can tell us exactly what you didn't do yesterday."

I smile a little, then tear open the Nutter Butter pack, I wolf down a bar and feel a heck of a lot better, and as the hot coffee takes effect, I feel wide awake too. They've all taken one of the seats around the table, and I can see Abby trying her hardest not to smother me in another hug, as I put the coffee cup down on the table she contents herself with holding my hand.

Tony leans forward. "We've all seen the pictures Tim, how about you tell us what happened, and you can start with what the heck you were doing at a craft market in the wilds of Maryland."

Trust Tony to know just how to ease the tension; I relax and smile. "Olney isn't exactly out in the boondocks Tony, I was out there because it's Penny's birthday next week and I was looking for a gift, something hand crafted...they have a farmers and artists market every Sunday, thought it wouldn't hurt to take a look."

Abby pulls her chair a little closer. "Did you find something?"

I nod. "A hand painted scarf."

"Hey you two, the social chit chat can wait, what happened in the parking lot Tim?"

"It came out of nowhere Boss, guess that's what everyone says when this kind of thing happens. I'd finished shopping and was heading back to the car, there was a shot, then another and people were screaming, running around...all I did was get them to take cover, stay still; it was no big deal."

"Looked pretty big to me, how about getting them all out of there?"

I shrug my shoulders, that part really had been easy. "Just simple geometry, I could see where the shooter was, top floor of a barn, there was a small window, he was there...gave him a real good view of the parking lot, lots of targets." My palms feel clammy, like they had yesterday. "There were so many people, I knew if they panicked he'd be able to pick them off as they were running, so I talked to them, quiet and low, got them to follow my instructions, so long as they moved where I told them they'd stay out of his sightline...simple."

"Allow me Gibbs." Ziva reaches out and gently smacks the back of my head. "If you do not stop selling yourself small, I will hit harder."

"Short Ziva, not..." She's grinning and I figure she only pretended to get the idiom wrong so I'd smile again, worked too. "Okay, you got a deal, but..." Her hand twitches again, and I quit talking, take another drink.

"Timmy...you should listen to Ziva, and not just because she's super scary, the little boy, getting him out of the car, nothing simple about that, which reminds me, when did you learn to sign?"

My face feels warm again as another blush spreads across my cheeks. "Did an online course a few years ago, figured if I ever met your mom..."

"Oh Timmy, that's so sweet!" I get another hug and let myself enjoy the pressure of Abby's arms around me. Gibbs pours himself another cup of coffee, even though he hates the brew from the coffee maker in here.

"How did you know the boy was deaf?"

"His mom...she was ready to run back to the car, Stevie, he was already strapped in his car seat, she'd forgotten to get him a carton of juice so she went back to the market, when the shots started...she was ready to panic, I got to her before she broke cover. She wanted to run, even when I told her she wouldn't get ten feet before the guy fired again; but when I showed her I could sign she let me go to him. The shooter, he was getting angry I guess, started firing at random, he didn't have a target, but he sure had a lot of bullets."

For a few minutes I was back in the parking lot, palms sweating, heart pounding as I zig-zagged between the parked cars. Stevie was crying, calling for his mom; I'd glanced up at the barn, if the shooter heard Stevie's cries the youngster would be a sitting target. I'd opened the car door, slid into the seat beside him and signed what I hoped were calming words...

"Hey Tim, you still with us?"

"Oh...sure Tony, just thinking."

"Less thinking, more talking; how did you get the kid out?"

This is such a weird feeling, everyone hanging on my words; usually they can't wait for me to stop talking. "Like I said, I used the angles, got to the car. Calmed Stevie down; one bullet hit the windshield and he started to cry again, so I told him we were going to be like the pigs hiding from the angry birds, got a smile out of him with that. Soon as he was calm again it was easy, I got him out of the seat and carried him back to his mom. By then the first of the local LEOs were arriving and I got out of their way." I shrug. "That's about it, hung around for a while to make my statement then went home." I stand up, pick up the empty cup and wrapper from the table and head for the trash can. "Are we done Boss? I should get to work, start making up the time."

There's a sharp sting on the back of my head as Gibbs administers a head slap. "I know you're not stupid McGee, but sometimes...what you did out there was outstanding. From a sniper's perspective the shooter had a perfect location, the ideal spot to cause maximum damage; there could have been multiple fatalities, because of you only two people were hospitalised and they have minor injuries."

"Seriously Boss, it's what we train for, I didn't do anything the rest of you can't do."

"Maybe, but we weren't there, you were, and you didn't hesitate, you put your training to good use, your education too, and you saved lives; not a bad way to spend your Sunday off."

Almost on autopilot I drop the garbage in the trash, I don't know what to say, how to react. Last night all I could think about was how bad things might have been, if I'd messed up my calculations someone could have died. "Guess you're right, haven't really thought about it that way, while it was happening I was focussed on getting everyone out the best way I could. When I got home...kind of hit me how bad it could have turned out."

"Delayed shock Timothy, only to be expected; is that why you didn't eat last night?"

I smile a little sheepishly. "Soon as I got in I lost my lunch, figured if I ate more it would end up the same way."

"You should go right home young man, catch up on your rest, I doubt you got much sleep."

"Don't know about that Ducky, seemed to take forever to get to sleep, but I missed the alarm so I must have been sleeping pretty deep."

Ducky guides me back to a chair, stares deep into my eyes, puts his fingers to my neck then sighs. "Your pulse is strong, but rather rapid, and you look very tired. Jethro, I suggest he goes home just as soon as the press conference is over."

"Press...no way! Boss please..."

Gibbs' hand rests on my shoulder. "Just a few quick questions Tim, and a chance for you to take the plaudits you deserve. Stop avoiding it Tim, look at the screen."

I do as he says, and it looks like a scene from a movie, sure the camerawork is a little shaky. "I...I know it's me, but it doesn't seem real, having so many people do exactly what I tell them, it sure wasn't like a working day at NCIS."

They all smile at my pretty pathetic attempt at a joke, and I take another look at the screen. People are talking, some I recognise from yesterday, others not so much. Ziva turns up the volume and I hear them, they're thanking me.

"Wouldn't have worked if they didn't do as I said, still not sure why they did."

"Why would they not McGee? You displayed calm authority under difficult conditions; people recognise such qualities and react to them."

Here comes the heat to my face again. How am I supposed to get through a press conference if I can't stop blushing?

"You ready to go Tim, or do you want a few words of advice on how to look good for the cameras?"

"Thanks for the offer Tony, but I know my limitations, I leave the looking good to you."

Tony grins, then gets serious all of a sudden. "I'm proud of you Tim; you put your big brain and lion's heart to good use. Now go on, stand next to Vance and tell the world what you did; who knows, maybe next time we interview a civilian they won't have to ask us what NCIS stands for."

"You can always dream Tony. I don't see what I did making that much of a difference to how people see us."

"You already made a difference to those people yesterday; everything else is just window dressing." He gives me one of his special grins. "Doesn't mean you can't enjoy the moment, come on Tim, it's a press conference, not a firing squad."

"Easy for you to say, you love the cameras." I stand up; ready to have my fifteen minutes of fame, only I'm not ready. "Boss…"

"Do it Tim, if not for yourself, then for the agency; it's not every day NCIS gets to be headline news."

You can always rely on Gibbs to get to the heart of the matter. I might not think what I did was so special, but if my friends are happy to let me have a little time in the spotlight, and if that light also falls on NCIS, I guess it can't hurt. I stand up straight, shoulders back, head held high and make my way to the Director's office, people stop me on the way, wish me luck, congratulate me…it's hard for me to take it in; but maybe I really did do something good.

THE END


End file.
